


And I Won't Feel a Thing (The Rinse and Repeat Remix)

by SegaBarrett



Category: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
Genre: Angst, Evil has fans, Gen, lonely at the top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: Billy has everything he ever wanted.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13
Collections: Buffyverse Top 5, Remix Revival 2020





	And I Won't Feel a Thing (The Rinse and Repeat Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kay_obsessive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_obsessive/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Wednesdays and Saturdays](https://archiveofourown.org/works/109660) by [kay_obsessive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_obsessive/pseuds/kay_obsessive). 



> Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Horrible, and I make no money from this.

Dr. Horrible is on top of the world. He keeps unusual hours, of course, and there are always a million things he needs to attend to, but this was what he had always wanted in the first place, so it doesn’t detract from the appeal.

It also allows him a lot less time to think, an ironic perk for a criminal mastermind.

It gives him enough time to not worry about how he’s missing his laundry day. It doesn’t hold the same appeal now, of course, but he tries to tell himself that Penny just made him vulnerable. It’s a good thing, actually.

A necessary evil that wasn’t intended.

Billy is… not on top of the world, or even on the bottom of it. He feels as if he’s trapped in one of the washers, going around and around and not sure where he’s going to end up next.

But that doesn’t matter, because Billy is not important. He’s a disguise – a convenient cloak to put on to avoid people figuring out that he’s Dr. Horrible and then – well, to be honest he doesn’t know what would happen then. Would he get arrested? Beat up by Captain Hammer again? Or would people just… know?

He had wanted people to know for a long time – he had needed people to know, to report on him, to fear him. To kneel to his greatness.

But, as he tosses some shirts into the washing machine, he doesn’t know how he would deal with – well, not people knowing about Dr. Horrible, but people knowing about Billy.

Spin cycle. Toss in some detergent, wait now it’s spinning already, maybe he did that already, or maybe he missed it. It doesn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things – soon enough, he will have henchmen for this sort of thing.

Henchmen for all sorts of things, except the things he wants to do personally. Like when he finally kills Captain Hammer, that’s the sort of thing he’ll do by himself because when you like the work, well it’s not really work then, is it?

He wonders how long he has been staring at this spinning washing machine. The laundry doesn’t hold the mystery and wonder that it used to, but that’s to be expected. He has moved past all of that, now.

There’s a tap on his shoulder and he whirls around, a cobra ready to strike.

“Hey, man.”

He turns around to see a young guy standing there in a hoodie, smiling at him in a sort of cock-eyed kind of way, and staring at him more like, looking past his eyes and almost into him. Maybe he sees Dr. Horrible beyond Billy, or the other way around, but either way it makes him feel chilled to the bone and as if he needs to run. The inversion of how Penny – he allows himself to think the word, the name, now, and he shouldn’t – used to make him feel with that happy-panic kind of rush, now it’s a scared-panic that he can’t fully explain.

Which doesn’t seem like it should be right, because Dr. Horrible – on top of the world, at the peak of his supervillain career – should not be scared of anyone or anything. 

(Except for Penny, coming through the doorway, a bloody mess in her stomach, saying Captain Hammer’s name over and over again. Penny, knowing. Penny, seeing him.)

The man in the hoodie smiles again as Billy stares back at him, and he waits out the silence, the unbearable silence, before he breaks it and says, “I’ve seen you somewhere before. You’re like, a big deal, right?”

Billy swallows, a dry chuckle rising in his throat. He wonders if this is what it feels like to be famous, to complain about being hounded in public places when he’s just trying to do what he needs to do as a normal person.

He doesn’t want to be a normal person, and he doesn’t want to be a famous person.

He doesn’t want to be someone standing in line at the laundry and throwing in his clothes, watching them spin around and around as he wonders whether he actually put the laundry detergent in there, and he doesn’t want to be talking with this guy.

But he stands there talking to him anyway, even though he could have pulled out his Freeze Ray and pointed it right at him, made him feel the true power and might of Dr. Horrible. Made him tremble and fear, kneel at his feet. Made him remember.

Instead, he says, “I mean, no, not really that big of a deal. It’s, uh, nice for you to say that, though.” He shifts on his feet and looks around, finding no route of escape, then adds, “So, you do, uh, laundry too?”

He wishes the floor would swallow him.

“I do,” the guy says, “My name is Ty, by the way. Um, I was wondering if I could get your autograph or something? I mean, I’m just washing some, uh, sheets over here, so it’s just… I hope I’m not interrupting you or anything.”

“An autograph?” Billy asks. What name did he want him to sign, anyway? Maybe he can run – there are plenty more clothes he doesn’t love. Maybe he can find a new laundromat, or maybe he can buy himself a washer and dryer once his evil plans yield some finances.

He backs up against the washer, trying to keep his breath steady. Bad Horse is probably watching him right now; hell, maybe Bad Horse is the one who sent this “Ty” guy to come check him out in the first place? Maybe being tested by Bad Horse is something that never has an end date, maybe he is always checking up to make sure that he doesn’t have anyone working for him who is falling apart. Making sure he isn’t opening his stable to someone who’s nothing more than a pesky colt.

So Billy needs to make sure that he will never fall apart. 

“Sure,” he says, forcing an awkward smile, trying to act pleased as punch. He wonders how pleased punch really is, considering that usually the only people who want to drink it are spiking it with alcohol. “Do you have, uh, a pen?”

Ty reaches into his pocket and fishes out a Sharpie marker, handing it to him with the cap off and ending up with big black streaks on both of their hands. He wonders if Captain Hammer will find him this way, if this is a plan to track Sharpie marker. Then again, Captain Hammer would never be that smart.

“What would you like me to sign?” Billy asks. His hand is shaking. He can hear the hoofbeats and death whinny of Bad Horse in his mind, ringing and calling him like some kind of a siren. Warning him that he might be next, before too long.

Before very long at all. 

Ty pulls out a Polaroid picture and presents it. It’s Billy – Dr. Horrible – both, in the process of pulling on his lab coat in the living room of his house. Seen through his beautiful new picture window.

He signs it, “Dr. Horrible.” That’s two R’s. 

Ty tilts his head to the side and beams.

“Why, uh, thanks Dr. Horrible. So how can I be like you? I mean, you’re… like… my hero. Of villains? I don’t know.”

And Billy laughs the best demonic, whinnying evil laugh he could muster, because why would someone ever want to be just like him?


End file.
